Lost Identity
by Talie
Summary: A car accident leaves a comatose Lindsay at the mercy of a man who’ll break the law to protect his wife. Takes place after season 2.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: As much as I love CSI's characters, they're not mine. I can dream though, so here they are, along with a few of my own characters.  
AN: Pooches Gracias to Boleyn for her expert cross-Atlantic beta-ing (All three versions too, you deserve a medal for tolerance)

Lost Identity

Chapter 1

Six o'clock on a Friday night, and Lindsay Monroe was waiting at a train station on the New York/Jersey border, the autumn breeze ruffling her hair. Shivering, Lindsay pulled her black Burberry jacket tighter around her. She'd been teaching a course on crime scene analysis every Friday for the past six weeks, and finally her contract was over. Mac had been great, giving her paid leave to teach, and those college kids had just loved her. The experience had taught her a lot, and would look great on her résumé. If she had to take a break from being a CSI, she decided that teaching about it would certainly be worth considering. Now that her time was up, she couldn't wait to get on that train and get back to Danny and her friends in Manhattan. She loved Manhattan almost as much as she had Bozeman. She'd had her heart set on living there since she'd first set foot in New York, saving her pennies by crashing on Uncle Freddy's couch until she had enough money for a deposit on her own Manhattan residence. She loved Manhattan's places, she loved Manhattan's people…actually, she loved one Manhattan resident more than any other. A smile spread across her face as she thought of Danny Messer. She'd made him wait for months before she finally agreed to go on a date with him. Lindsay had lost count of the number of times the girls in the lab had told her to avoid him, and how he'd never be able to commit. The thing was, he'd been worth every minute of waiting for. Even in one of America's more notorious cities, Lindsay still felt overwhelmingly protected when Danny put his arms around her. He was nothing like the rugged country guy she'd always thought she'd spend her life with, but something in her mind lit up when she imagined spending the rest of her life with Danny. Not that she ever told him – this was the first time he'd been in a relationship this serious, and she figured she'd scare him off, so she just occupied her mind by daydreaming about it instead. A lot. Her favourite scenario was her and Danny, living in one of those amazing townhouses a few streets from his apartment, with two children and an adorable puppy. Her family would fly over from Montana, and his family would visit – ah, that reminded her. Danny had mentioned something about having his brother Louie over for dinner. Lindsay knew Danny did a great curry, and decided to run by the local Indian supermarket to pick up some fresh herbs. She looked for a safe place to cross the busy road.

Five-thirty on a Friday night, and Caitlin Morris was not having the best day of her life. Her job in a home for senior citizens was definitely on the line after she'd been accused of stealing from one of the residents. Five years of faultless service for terrible pay and zero employee benefits, and suddenly she was inches from food stamps and social security handouts. It wasn't even like she enjoyed her job; she left work feeling miserable every evening. Caitlin was heading home to New York, where her teenage son was failing all his classes, and her husband's job as a carpenter meant that his income was sporadic at best. Definitely not the life she'd imagined for herself when she was a young girl. Biting back tears of self-pity and wiping away images of a large beachfront house with a landscaped garden, Caitlin got into her car and started the long drive home. She turned on the air conditioning and the radio to try and keep herself awake after her twelve hour shift. Caitlin knew that she wasn't supposed to work such long hours, but the overtime pay rate meant that her son could go on the field trip with his classmates. All she had to do was keep her eyes open for another hour or so, right? Choking back a sob, she turned into the main street, leaning over to the glovebox for a Kleenex, and adjusted the radio.

Thud.

Ten past six on a Friday night, and Danny Messer was walking through the streets of New York with a smile on his face, having just left work. Hawkes had found a piece of evidence which would solve the case of the month, and he knew it would put him in line for a record-breaking pay rise. He plugged himself into his iPod, listening to the album he'd bought earlier in the week, and mentally planned which gadgets he'd buy with that pay rise. Maybe he'd get the air conditioning fixed in his apartment; Lindsay always said it was too hot there. If he made it bearable for her, she might stay over more often. He rewarded his ingenuity with a cheeky smirk. His destination was Grand Central Station, and more specifically, whichever platform Lindsay Monroe's train arrived at. Danny had finally convinced Lindsay that he deserved a chance about six months ago. It hadn't just been her who'd needed the convincing though – he had a reputation as a bit of a ladies' man, and he'd had serious doubts about whether he could actually handle commitment. Lindsay had made it easy though. Maybe it was because she was from out of state and, unlike the New York girls he met, Lindsay still believed that everyone was capable of good. She had this great sparkle which he couldn't stop himself falling for, every time he saw her. She got to him in a way no woman ever had, and he'd never tell her in case it scared her off, but he couldn't imagine being without her now. Besides, who else would put up with so much from one guy, without a single word of complaint? He told bad jokes, had too many flirtatious female friends, the craziest brother on the planet, and she still loved him. She really was perfect for him. He just wished his country girl had shown up in New York five years earlier.

Six fifteen, and Caitlin Morris had pulled up by the side of the road, hyperventilating and unable to drive any further. The window was wound down, and she was replaying the whole awful event in her mind. Anyone who's ever hit an animal will tell you what a distinctive sound it makes. The unmistakeable thump on the front of the car. The terrible noises which follow. The squeal of the brakes on the vehicles behind you. The realisation that you've changed nature forever. All of these factors combined can make hitting an animal a horrible experience. After all, Caitlin mused, that was surely all it was, right? A fox, or a stray dog or something. No way was that a person who she'd just bounced off her hood at forty miles an hour. A person would surely make more of an impact. Those ambulances headed in the other direction were probably for something else, something totally unrelated to any kind of road accident. No reason for all this hysterical shaking at all. She turned the key in the ignition, flicked her turn signal on, and pulled back into the traffic.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 Six twenty, and Danny rounded the corner with the station in sight. Humming along to his music, he didn't immediately notice the traffic officer standing in front of him until the guy snapped his fingers in Danny's face. "Hey", the officer bellowed, "Do I have to write it down for you?" Danny pulled his earphones out and snapped out of his dream world where Lindsay was showing him exactly how grateful she was for the air conditioning. "Sorry", he said. The officer indicated the traffic cones across the street. "Road's closed, there's been an accident", he said. "You'll have to turn around and find another way". Danny contemplated waving his badge to see if he could outrank the officer, but decided against it. If someone saw him lurking about a scene, they might think he was working on it, and then he'd be in big trouble with Mac. Even worse, he might get asked to help, which would make him even later for meeting Lindsay. After waiting around in the cold, she wouldn't be in the best mood if she was kept hanging around. Sighing, he plugged himself back into his music, rolled his eyes, and walked back down the street where he'd come from, heading for another route he knew. 

A few minutes later, the station was in sight, again. "Déjà vu", Danny muttered, thinking resentful thoughts about whatever idiot had caused the traffic accident. Probably a cab in a hurry to pick up a customer, or a delivery courier. They drove like lunatics, it was amazing that there weren't more accidents given the way those people drove. DMV ought to take them off the roads, Danny thought. Their bad driving meant that he was going to be late for meeting Lindsay. As he jogged up the stairs and put his iPod back in his pocket, he hoped she wouldn't be too angry. "Hey Danny", a girl called. He looked over and saw Kristy, a girl he'd met at a bar a few times last year. "Here to meet Lindsay?" Danny grinned – everyone knew about him and Lindsay. They couldn't believe that one country girl had made him give up his old ways. "Yeah, she's been over in Jersey doing that training course", Danny called back. "Danny, you wouldn't have to be waiting around here if you'd stayed with me", Kristy shot back. Danny consulted his watch and pretended to think about it. "I'll do you a deal, Kristy. If she's not here by 8pm, I'll meet you at the bar and we can talk about running off to Vegas". They both laughed and headed onwards. Six months ago, Danny knew that conversation would have wound up in a nightclub serving terrible tequila, and 24 hours of an equally terrible hangover. Today, all he could think about was the great weekend he had planned. Brunch at their favourite restaurant on Saturday, and tickets for a horror movie marathon on Sunday afternoon. He came to a pause by the arrivals screen, where they were supposed to meet, and double checked his watch. As he had expected, the delay at the accident site had made him ten minutes late. Lindsay was not going to be impressed. He contemplated getting her flowers from one of the shops, but he wasn't entirely certain that they wouldn't wind up floating down the Hudson. 

After standing around for five minutes, he gave up waiting and headed off to look around the platform her train had arrived at, but all that was there was a bunch of empty carriages. He checked all the cafés for his coffee addicted girlfriend, but they were all closing for the evening. He even got a public announcement put out for her, but nothing. "Maybe she got delayed in Jersey, sir?" the clerk not-too-helpfully suggested. Danny shrugged and decided to get a bite to eat while he waited for the next train. She'd be on that one, for sure. Now it was him doing the waiting, and he wondered if she might want to make it up to him the way he'd considered making it up to her.

By ten past seven, Danny had polished off two burgers, two large servings of fries, and watched as two more Jersey trains had arrived, none of them carrying Lindsay. He had run up and down the platform each time, checking each carriage for Lindsay. He could forgive her for missing one train – maybe she had bumped into someone and met them for a coffee, or maybe a student had asked for some extra help. That happened sometimes, and was definitely a result of her being too nice to say no to anyone in need. She really was too nice for her own good. For his own good, too. He pulled his cellphone out of his pocket and called her. It went straight to voicemail, so he called the college she had been working at, who merely confirmed she had indeed signed out for the day at the usual time. Danny ran back down the platform as another Jersey train came in, checking all the carriages, but no Lindsay. Trying to control his now-frantic thoughts, he stopped, put his "Worst case scenario" CSI thinking aside, and tried to work out a logical course of action as the train departed for its next destination.

Reluctantly, he made his way to a bench and sat down. He dialled his way through five of Lindsay's best friends, but all he achieved was two invitations to dinner, reducing one friend to panicked hysteria, one dismissive "She'll be back soon", and one answering machine. At seven thirty, he made the call he didn't want to make, because it felt too much like giving up. 

Flack and his notepad arrived in record breaking time. Together, they filled in her description on the Missing Person form. It was about then that Danny realised how it felt to be on the other side all those times he'd had to deal with upset relatives whose family members were missing. Their wailing, howling and inability to give him a sensible answer had been really irritating, like they were trying to make his job harder. Now in their shoes, he resolved to be more considerate in future. Their protests seemed quite logical now. The form did seem far too short with nowhere near enough room for description. How on earth would the detectives know who to look for? "Caucasian female, late twenties, wavy brown hair, black jacket, tan trousers, brown boots" could be a description of any of the millions of women in New York. Why was there nowhere to write "sparkly eyes", "infectious laughter" or "amazing intelligence"? Danny listened to Flack putting out a woefully short description of Lindsay to all the officers in the area, just in case she'd got in and was making her way back to his apartment. Flack had reminded him that the traffic accident from earlier meant a lot of people had to find alternative routes. It was possible that Lindsay had just got a bit lost on the unfamiliar streets. Starting to feel slightly nauseous, Danny listened to Flack repeating the short description to Jersey's police chief, picking out the odd words….one of our own…should have been on the earlier train…missing for five hours…good friend. It just didn't feel like enough. 


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 In a suburb just outside Manhattan, middle aged Robert Morris was waiting for his wife on the front porch of their old house. Rap music blared from a small bedroom at the side of the house which his son Jason used more as a nightclub than a bedroom. "Jason, would you please turn Snoopy Dog Unit or whoever it is down a bit please? I'm not sure our neighbours share your love of rap". The belligerent music increased in volume, but not loud enough to disguise the clattering of his wife's old car as it rattled down the driveway. He could see that she was upset as soon as she stepped out of the rusty old station wagon. Then he saw the dent on the hood of the car and went to get a closer look. "Caitlin, I told you to get a taxi, you shouldn't drive when you've worked all day. We'd find the money for it somewhere. Look how tired you are. This was an accident waiting to happen. This is really bad timing, Caitlin. We can't afford to have this fixed while I'm not working. What happened? Are you hurt?" Caitlin just sobbed, unable to speak for a minute. "There was a girl, by the toll bridge near work, I think I hit her", she howled. "Was she hurt?" Robert asked. Caitlin just nodded. "Is she at the hospital? Did you see the ambulance?" Caitlin nodded again. She and Robert stood and stared at each other for a few moments, until suddenly, Robert felt a plan forming. "I'm going out. Go inside the house, have a bath, get changed, talk to Jason about that music, and wait for me to come home", Robert instructed, slowly. "Why? Where are you going?", Caitlin asked. Robert held out his hand to her. "Give me your keys, I'm taking your car". Caitlin stared at her husband in confusion. "But look at the damage, Robert. If you drive that anywhere, you're going to attract attention". Resolute, Robert shoved her towards the screen in front of the house and motioned her inside. 

At the Lincoln Memorial Hospital, Marcia and Grace, two receptionists, were sat behind a large wooden counter. There wasn't as much security as they'd like, but the hospital management had decided that removing the glass screens made them more friendly and welcoming, so there they were, exposed to the public like a pair of matching statues with corporate uniforms and matching platinum blonde hairstyles. Every day, they dealt with insect bites, young children with bumps and scrapes from the school yard, seniors who had fallen, victims of crime and numerous automobile accidents. Nothing surprised them any more. Both women were also aware of at least three unusual uses for a kitchen whisk. They had a good supply of pens, charts and Kleenex for weeping relatives, and a button to call security in case anything untoward happened. When Robert Morris charged towards them and knocked on their desks, they weren't expecting anything they hadn't seen a million times before. He was just another upset relative after information. They simultaneously reached for the Kleenex in preparation. "Was there an accident reported earlier this evening? At the toll bridge?", he asked. "Actually, yes", Marcia replied. "A young woman was brought in. Is she a relative?". Robert couldn't quite believe his luck, nor could he believe his scruples for what he was about to do. "Sure…I mean, yes!", he answered. Grace raised an eyebrow. Marcia picked up her phone. "Grace, inform Doctor Murphy that Jane Doe's got a visitor, tell him to get the operating theatre prepared. I'll take the young man along to see the doctor."

Doctor Murphy met Robert at the entrance to the Intensive Care ward. Murphy was a well respected surgeon, with experience in general surgery, psychiatric medicine and a brief but terrifying spell in pediatrics which he used to explain his slightly greying hair. He escorted Robert to a private, glass fronted room, where a badly injured woman, covered almost from head to toe in bandages, was lying in a hospital bed. Robert suspected that even if he had known her, she would still be described as unrecognisable. "Is this your relative?" Murphy asked. "She's in a critical condition; she's sustained a serious head injury. The doctors can't operate on her until someone can sign the consent forms". Robert took a second to think about the consequences of what he was about to do. It wasn't too late to say "No, there's been a terrible mistake", apologise, and leave. But instead, he found himself saying "Her name's Caitlin Morris. That's my wife in there". Doctor Murphy sighed with relief. "Come with me, Mr Morris. We have to get the treatment consent papers signed, and you can give us some information to help us locate her records". Robert allowed the doctor to lead him to the office, taking one last look at the poor, anonymous woman, and sending her a mental apology for what he was about to do. 


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 Nearly midnight on Friday, and Flack told Danny to go home and get some rest. His pacing and occasional outbursts hadn't done him or the team any good. Walking through the Manhattan streets again, Danny's route was once more interrupted by the scene of the traffic accident from earlier. Thankfully, this time they were a bit more forgiving, and after he showed them his NYPD shield, they moved the cones aside for him. Or maybe, he mused, they saw the look on his face and took pity on him. "Shouldn't you be at home already, Detective Messer?" the traffic officer asked. Danny shook his head, woefully. "I was waiting for my girlfriend at the station. She was supposed to be getting in on a train from Jersey six hours ago, but she's disappeared". The traffic officer grabbed for his radio, but Danny motioned him to put it away. "It's okay, I already filed a missing person report with my people. They're looking". The officer put the radio back into his pocked and tapped a finger on one of the remaining cones for a second. "Did you check the hospitals?" the officer asked. Danny thought about this for a minute. "There was an accident, near the border somewhere. It was a bad one. My colleagues needed extra manpower, but I was already on the scene here so I couldn't go". Danny felt a wash of dread sink down on him. He turned to run back to the main street and flagged down a cab.

The clock had just passed midnight, and Saturday had arrived. Normally a man who loved every minute of the weekend, Robert had a pang of conscience as the accident victim was wheeled down to the theatre. Signing her consent form made him realise the gravity of his lie. No longer was it something he could lie his way out of without repercussions. If he was busted now, he was looking at a court case, sentencing, time in jail. Time without his wife, setting a bad example to his precariously balanced son, and a criminal conviction which would stay with him for life. The more he thought about it, the more it got to him. He sat alone outside the woman's hospital room, with his mind buzzing, trying to think of a way out of the whole situation. Eventually, after trying out several different stories he could try on the police, he realised that there was no easy way out. Whatever story he came up with, even he could pick holes in it. There was only one thing to do. He walked to the payphone at the front desk of the hospital, and called the police to confess that it was him who had caused the accident which had hurt the young woman so badly. "I just wanted to be honest, I'm not trying to hide from the law", he admitted. "I'm at the hospital now. The poor woman was all alone, no friends or relatives. It's like nobody cares for her". Little did he know that quite the opposite was true. New York's finest and most devoted were out looking for her, one of them more devoted than any other.

At about the same time that Robert picked up the phone, Grace found herself confronted by an anxious looking man in a suit and polo shirt who'd run in from the street. "Have you had a young woman brought in this evening?", he asked. "Involved in a traffic accident or something like that?". Grace flipped through her admittance charts. "Do you have the young woman's name?" she asked. "Lindsay, Lindsay Monroe", Danny answered, wondering why he'd not had the sense to pick up a copy of her ID before he left. Grace shook her head. "According to my admitting records, there's nobody by that name here.  
"Okay, how about the Jane Does you've had tonight? She might be one of those. She's about five foot six, late twenties, she's got brown wavy hair, and she had a black Burberry jacket". He looked imploringly at Grace, who just shook her head at him. "The only young woman we've had admitted tonight is a Mrs Caitlin Morris. That's her husband over there, on the phone. His wife is in surgery, she had a small blood clot". Grace pointed in Robert's direction. "No others at all?" Danny pleaded. "Can't you check those charts again? Even someone who may not quite fit her description?". Grace shook her head. "It's been a quiet night, sir. Unless Lindsay Monroe is a three year old boy with febrile convulsions or an eighty six year old woman with a broken hip, she's not been admitted here. We've only had those three admissions tonight. I'm sorry, I really can't help you any further". She snapped her file shut with an official sounding click and put her pen down to indicate that the discussion was over. Danny sighed and stepped away from the desk.

At 3am, Don Flack was about to fax Lindsay's photo to Jersey's Police department, when his phone rang. "It's Danny. Any updates?" Flack switched the phone to his other ear and cursed as the fax machine shredded the photo he'd just fed in. The top half of the "Missing" poster emerged, neatly concertinaed like an ornamental fan. He wedged the phone against his ear with his shoulder and desperately tried to retrieve the paper from the hungry mechanism with both hands. "I know it seems like a long time, Danny, but we're doing all we can. We're making enquiries all over the state". He put the phone down, put his foot against the fax and pulled desperately on the paper. Almost instantly, the phone rang again and he grabbed angrily for it, ready to yell at the caller who was interrupting his fight with modern technology. "Flack", he snarled furiously, trying once more to retrieve the piece of paper. Then he paused. "The caller said what? Say that again". 


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5 At four thirty in the morning, Caitlin Morris hopped out of the cab at the Lincoln Hospital. She found her husband waiting outside, smoking a cigarette. It was a habit which disgusted her. "Robert, put that out. I know what you're up to and it's crazy", she yelled across the parking lot. Robert looked up and saw his wife. "Why did you come here? I told you I'd take care of it", he snapped. "I can't let you do it. I have to tell them it was me. I'll need you to take care of me, too", Caitlin whimpered. She reached out her hand and placed it on Robert's shoulder. Robert was about to pull her in for a reassuring hug, when the door opened and Doctor Murphy emerged. He eyed Caitlin suspiciously. "She's, er, my wife's sister", Robert stammered, aware one slip up could cost them both their freedom. "Your wife is out of surgery, Mr Morris. It went well. She's still unconscious but you can see her now". With that, Doctor Murphy left, and Robert took Caitlin to the room where their victim lay. They stopped outside the room and stared in at the mystery woman, who was now back from surgery. She had an oxygen mask over her mouth, and bandages wrapped around her head. Caitlin clapped hand to her own mouth and sobbed, realising the gravity of what she'd done. A passing nurse stopped. "It's okay, she came through the surgery well. She's in a coma, but that's normal, given the amount of head trauma". The three of them stared in through the glass panels, watching the monitors bleep and hum. 

Robert wasn't sure how long they stood there. At some point, the nurse must have left, because it was just him, Caitlin, and mystery woman behind those glass doors. It wasn't until the tall detective called his name that he was brought back to earth. "Robert Morris?" he asked. Robert and Caitlin both looked up. "Are you Robert Morris? You phoned my station earlier. I'm Detective Flack. I'm here to connect a missing person's report with your phone call". Robert nodded, and indicated the glass doors. Flack looked into the room and stared, incredulous. "That's not Caitlin Morris, is it?" Robert shook his head, and Caitlin stepped forward. "I'm Caitlin Morris. I caused the accident. I'd had a long day at work, I haven't been sleeping. My mind wasn't on the road, and the next thing I know, I've hit someone. My husband just tried to save me. I'm the only one with an income, and if we lost that income, our whole world would fall apart", she admitted. Realising the selfishness of her words, she bit her lip. "I'm never going to forgive myself. Here was this poor woman fighting for her life, and I was more concerned with myself. I never gave her a second thought. She's got her whole life ahead of her". Flack nodded. "That's Lindsay Monroe. She's a crime scene investigator with NYPD. There are a lot of people looking for her. You'll need to come to the station with me". Robert looked at Lindsay. "I'd like to wait with her until her family arrives. I don't want her to be alone". Flack raised his eyebrows at the strange offer, pulled out his cellphone and dialled a number. "Don't go anywhere", he warned them both, as he walked down the corridor.

At 5am, Flack sent a squad car to collect Danny from his apartment, and promised to be on the front steps of the hospital to meet his friend. What Danny didn't notice on his arrival was the woman stood behind Flack, handcuffed. "Lindsay's in Intensive Care, Danny. Up the stairs, second floor", Flack said. Danny charged up the horrible, clinical stairs, with the horrible, clinical smell until he found the ward. "Where's Lindsay Monroe?" he asked the nurses at the front desk. They lead him to the glass fronted room. Unlike Robert, who could never bring himself to go into Lindsay's room, Danny charged right in and stopped by the end of the bed. "Montana, it's me. Open your eyes". She didn't. She was so quiet and still, it wasn't like her at all. What drugs had they put her on? He picked up her chart and noticed the surgery consent form. Someone had signed it. Somebody called Morris. He'd said he was her husband. Danny could feel the rage bubbling inside him. Lindsay had made him wait months before she'd even consider dating him, and this idiot called Morris just gets to pass himself off as her husband? He loved Lindsay, and Lindsay loved him. If anyone was going to be her husband…Danny stopped that thought right there, daring himself to finish the sentence. He clenched his fists and headed out to the nurses' station. "Is Mr Morris still here?" he asked, managing to hide his fury well. The young nurse shook her head. "No, Mr and Mrs Morris went downstairs with the officer. What a terrible tragedy – his wife causes the accident, and he tries, in such a misguided way, to save her". As he raced down the stairs, Danny could only imagine what he was going to say to this Morris guy. It definitely didn't involve a trip to the Russian Tea Rooms, or a night on Broadway. A lifetime underneath the sidewalks of Broadway, perhaps. He stopped at the front desk to ask Marcia who Mr Morris was, and she helpfully pointed him out. He was sitting on the stairs by the entrance, preparing to light another cigarette. When he noticed Danny, he stood up, quickly, as if he instinctively knew who Danny was. "I can't stop thinking about this mess. How is she?" he asked. Danny looked Robert in the eyes. "Quit thinking about my girlfriend, and think about how if anything happens to her, I'm not going to let you live in peace". He walked over to where Flack and Caitlin stood. "As for you", he snapped, "I suppose you were drunk driving or something. Couldn't keep your mind on the road, and now there's an innocent victim in a hospital bed". Caitlin's eyes filled with tears. "I was so tired, it was all my fault. My car, my driving. If any harm comes to her, I will never forgive myself", she whispered. Danny watched Robert rush to his wife's side and promise her that no harm would come to Lindsay, and how it was an accident. All he could do was look down at his shoes and try and deal with the whirling emotions in his head. Those two had each other. Who did he have? His girl was trapped in a comatose body. "We're sorry", Robert added, feebly. He put a consoling hand on Danny's shoulder and let Flack escort his wife to the police car. Danny brushed Robert's hand off his shoulder and watched as the car took Caitlin away. He thought it would give him some degree of relief to see this woman taken away, but it just seemed to make the pain in his heart much worse. Lindsay wouldn't want to break up a family, or make their pain any worse. He figured he ought to make an effort to make her proud. Reluctantly, he turned to Robert and acknowledged him with a nod. 

By 8am, Stella and Mac had arrived. He'd not wanted to wake them by calling any earlier. Stella, having seen Danny's haggard appearance, offered to keep watch over Lindsay's progress. Doctor Murphy had ordered Danny to go home, get some sleep. It was probably the most impossible thing you could ask someone in his situation to do. Sure, he went home. He sat in the front room, watched some TV. Laughed at some of the commercials that Lindsay laughed at. Made himself some chicken soup using her recipe, and tried to lie down on the bed, but every time he started to get comfortable, he caught a trace of her perfume on the pillow, or thought he heard her singing in the bathroom. She was a terrible singer, and half the time she just made up the words, but that just made it more loveable. He couldn't bear to think how life would be if he didn't hear her ruin another great song. In the end, he lay on the bed and watched the sky get light, Lindsay's terrible singing running around his head, lulling him off to a deep sleep. 


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6 It was 4pm before he woke up. For a few, fleeting seconds he enjoyed that "everything's okay" feeling you get when you first open your eyes in the morning. Then the events of the previous 24 hours hit him, and he sat up, searching for his phone. He dialled Stella's cellphone, only to hear her say nothing had changed, then took a shower before heading down to the hospital again, not sure what he'd find. Lindsay was still in the same position he'd left her in earlier, with Stella still seated in the chair at the end of her bed. Lindsay's eyes were shut, the wound on her cheek was still there, and the mummifying bandages which wrapped her head were still doing their job. "Come on Montana, stop pretending and open your eyes", he begged her. "Wake up. Tell me I'm not supposed to call you that any more. Sing me one of those songs. Quit being lazy and wake up. I looked everywhere for you yesterday. I don't think I tried so hard for you even before we got together. Looking for you made me realise that I'd only ever tried to find myself. Now I've found you….". His voice trailed off and he sat down on the chair beside the bed to calm himself down. He looked down at his socks. He'd managed to choose two totally different coloured socks. How could he be so stupid? Lindsay used to laugh at him all the time for not pairing his socks up when they came out of the machine. He started to smile at the memory, and was suddenly aware of a noise from the bed.

Pain. Pain in the head, a really bad pain, something worse than even Advil could treat. And really stiff joints too. Had she been drinking? How long had she been asleep? Sun streaming in through the window. Oh boy, she was going to be so late for work, Mac was going to go mad. Time to get up and make some seriously strong coffee. She forced one eye open a bit to look for her alarm clock, but it wasn't there. This definitely wasn't her bedroom, the bed was far too soft. It didn't look like Danny's bedroom either, but she was pretty sure she'd heard his voice a minute ago. Why was Stella standing over the edge of her bed? Why were Stella's eyes red? "What happened?", Lindsay croaked. Stella smiled reassuringly. "You're in hospital, Lindsay. There was a car accident. You were in a coma, and a guy gave you a fake identity so we couldn't find you. We were all looking, all over the city. Some of us more than others". She winked across to Danny. Lindsay took a minute to take all this in. "We thought you were going to leave us", Stella whispered. Lindsay shifted and turned to face Danny. "I'm not leaving for a while", she said. "I've got things to do. I've got to find a way to stop him looking at other women". Stella laughed, walked to the door and clicked it open. "I'm going to tell the doctor you're awake", she said. "Don't move". Danny looked at Lindsay. "Think you can stop me looking at other women?", he teased. A sly smile spread across Lindsay's face. "You've not looked at another woman for months", she said. "I think you've finally met your match, and it's about time you did something about that". She watched the look on his face change to one of surprise. "Well", he admitted. "I did have one thing in mind that we could talk about…." 


End file.
